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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22720930">Just me and you, in a world of black and blue</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/plopdropflop/pseuds/plopdropflop'>plopdropflop</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>witches and wonderlands [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>NCT (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Angst, Body Horror, Horror, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Magic, Park Jisung (NCT)-centric, Zhong Chen Le-centric</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-02-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 15:49:43</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,157</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22720930</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/plopdropflop/pseuds/plopdropflop</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Jisung doesn't want to go, not really, but he knows Jaemin worries about his social life too. The fact that he has no friends his age, the fact that he's too quiet, opting to spend most of his days curled up in Jaemin's hoodies than anywhere else. </p><p> </p><p>("Camp Aletheia!" It reads in obnoxiously bright letters, followed by a brief introduction. A camp for gifted souls, it says. One that would teach them control while providing an understanding environment. A month of fun, it brags. </p><p>If only Jisung knew).</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Park Jisung &amp; Zhong Chen Le</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>witches and wonderlands [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1705213</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>72</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Just me and you, in a world of black and blue</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I accidentally posted this too early :( so here it is... Again. </p><p>Warnings: not all of them tagged! Proceed with caution!!! I have much lighter stories if you can't handle this! </p><p>Please forgive any typos.</p><p>(Same universe as Oh, My Heart Did a Thing, but not related in plot or tone).</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When Jisung fades into consciousness, his brain is muddled and his eyes struggle to open. Something sharp is digging into his back, and no matter how much he tries to roll over it doesn't seem to budge. </p><p>A pause, and then he manages to crack open an eye. Mostly in vain, seeing as it was dark, but there's a silver of lighting reaching through a crack, illuminating his surroundings enough for him to realize he was tucked in Jaemin's backpack. The sharp object turns out to be the textbook he was lying against. </p><p>It's not uncommon for Jisung to wake up like this, always asleep in whatever little space he could find. What is strange though, is the voices filtering through the worn-out fabric of the bag. Jaemin's, he instantly recognizes, finds himself relaxing at the sound of it.</p><p>The other one though....</p><p>"... just concerned about his behavior, is all."</p><p>Jisung scrunches his nose in confusion at the words, trying to strain his ears to hear his witch's reply. A useless gesture, as Jaemin's voice was always too low and quiet unless he's around someone he genuinely likes (basically just his roommates, Jeno, and Jisung). </p><p>He hops onto one of the adjacent books, closer to the zipper, and presses his ears against the fabric. The sounds are much clearer now, only a little muffled. </p><p>"I don't see the problem with him being quiet, though." Jaemin's voice, calm as always but Jisung can hear the underlying tension in the carefully spoken words. </p><p>"A boy his age, especially a familiar, should be more social than that. And you and I both know Jisung is quite extraordinary with his magic, I really think the camp would do him good," the voice responds, irritation much less subtle. </p><p>"In the end, it doesn't matter what you think though, right? It's my opinion above everything else," Jaemin responds, tethering on the edge of his patience. It's not often people annoy him to the point he's outright rude, and Jisung can't help but try and edge closer. </p><p>A stupid move, since the fabric would've shown Jisung's figure. Jisung jerks back a little in panic, but finds that he has nothing to worry about as the backpack slides over and presses against something solid. Probably Jaemin's side. </p><p>"And it's his opinion above yours. Talk to him about it, Jaemin," the voice says, and Jisung can't help but bristle at the harsh tone. He briefly considers biting whoever it was, sure that Donghyuck as a familiar himself would absolutely back it up, but realizes the lectures from their respective witches, Jaemin and Renjun wouldn't be worth it. </p><p>Jaemin gets dragged to meetings with his teachers about Jisung all the time, considering Jisung's abnormally large magic store was a hot topic amongst them, but this sounded different. A little more serious. </p><p>It seems the conversation is over, because Jisung feels the backpack being picked up. The gentle up-and-down sway of Jaemin walking isn't anything new, so he settles on one of the thicker books and waits for Jaemin to take him out. It's obvious he knows Jisung is here. </p><p>It takes a surprisingly long time for Jaemin to open the zipper. In fact, they're all the way at the dorms and Jisung had already half fallen back to sleep when light floods in, blinding him. </p><p>Jaemin scoops him up gently, hiding him against his chest to protect his eyes until they adjusted. It was a tired joke between the four of them, just how small and fragile Jisung was as a mouse considering he towered over the rest as a human. Jisung thinks it fits; his personality was always mellow and distant, his presence small and his ego sensitive. </p><p>In the safety of Jaemin's hands, Jisung looks around the room warily. It seems they're alone, and the curtains are drawn shut so he hesitantly loosens the hold he has on his magic and shifts back into being a human. </p><p>Jaemin grunts under the sudden weight, but Jisung doesn't give him time to say anything before booking it to the door, bolting the lock shut and double checking just for measure. He exhales, relieved and finally able to relax.</p><p>It's not something they talk about much; why exactly Jisung prefers to be a mouse at all times. And Jisung would rather not talk about it either. His human form isn't something he likes showing to people anymore, the only ones he feels comfortable around being Jaemin, Renjun and Donghyuck. Even then, the last two only see him like this handfuls of times, because no matter how much trust he has in a person, the fear never really disappears. </p><p>He sighs, falling onto Jaemin's bed and looking up at his witch. He was staring back, expression unyielding but eyes soft.</p><p>After a moment, Jaemin talks. "They think you need friends. I don't count, apparently, and so doesn't Renjun or Hyuck. They're bad influences, it seems." </p><p>Jisung frowns at that, confused. He understands them being concerned, considering he never really talked around them, but he did have friends. It was rude to say he didn't, right? </p><p>But he could tell that wasn't the end of it, so he gazes at Jaemin with questioning eyes. </p><p>Jaemin sighs, heavy and tired. "You didn't tell me you had an accident in class," He says, gentle, as if that would soften the blow. </p><p>Jisung flinches, memories flooding his brain at the words. Usually, familiars accompanied their witches to their practical classes, and stayed behind for the theory ones. They tended to be free most of the time, save for a monthly mass-class for all familiars that Jisung attends only so that Jaemin wouldn't worry too much. He has to be in human form, so he usually wears a mask and hides behind Donghyuck despite being much taller than the boy. </p><p>He had gotten clamping down on his magic and staying quiet to a science. If he let it loose, he knew everyone would stare, the confines within him too overwhelming for some to even be near. It's terrifying, but he was used to hiding his magic. It's second nature to him.</p><p>But when someone grabs him from behind, tries to tear off his mask, all his limits let loose and the results would've been catastrophic had Donghyuck not tackled his curled up figure out of the classroom. Donghyuck hadn't looked too pleased, not at Jisung but at whoever the kid was, but he still stayed behind to help him calm down instead of confronting the kid.</p><p>Through tears, Jisung had asked him to hide everything from Jaemin, had gotten reluctant compliance. Seems like it was all for naught though. </p><p>Jaemin observes his silence, taking in his expressions, before sighing once more. Gently, he runs a hand through Jisung's hair, smiling when the younger doesn't shy or bat it away. </p><p>"I can already guess what happened," Jaemin says, soft. </p><p>Jisung can hear the worry he's trying to mask as if it were an arrow to his own heart. He grabs Jaemin's wrist where it rests on his head, moves it down to press on his cheeks, the warmth comforting. </p><p>"They want to do something about it?" Jisung asks, voice raspy from disuse. </p><p>"A camp, they say. One for gifted children like you, one where they teach you how to use your magic instead of being used as a conduit. There'll be kids your age, they say, but... you'll have to go alone." </p><p>Jaemin is visibly displeased at this notion, eyebrows furrowed and teeth already biting on his lips. Jisung doesn't like seeing him distressed — no familiar does, with their witches — so he shuffles over until his head lies on Jaemin's lap, the hand previously on his cheek loosely hanging around his waist. He buries his face into Jaemin's torso and allows Jaemin to play with his hair. </p><p>And maybe whoever the teacher was had a point. Jisung doesn't want to go, not really, but he knows Jaemin worries about his social life too. The fact that he has no friends his age, that fact that he's too quiet, opting to spend most his days curled up in Jaemin's hoodies than anywhere else. </p><p>And well, Jaemin's always been frail. Not physically; he cuts a strong, broad figure when he stands tall, but instead in terms of magic. Extremely skilled as he was at healing, he tires too quickly, magic taking such a heavy toll on his body that it had almost killed him once. </p><p>A period of time Jisung never wants to live through again, and a period of time that could've been avoided if he was better at his job. His own magical reserves helped substitute Jaemin's own, but what he gave in quantity he lacked in control. It was only a little extra magic he had given, but he had lost his grip on it too quickly, and Jaemin just wasn't equipped to handle it.</p><p>Jisung remembers the paralysing fear that overtook him as Jaemin collapsed, remembers sobbing into Renjun when he wasn't allowed near Jaemin until the healers deemed it safe. Remembers the separation anxiety it had caused. Being away from Jaemin physically hurt, at least for the year that followed. He's better now, he thinks, and the more he thinks of it, the more the camp sounds good. Not for his own sake, but for Jaemin's. </p><p>"I wouldn't mind going," He whispers, voice muffled, but Jaemin still flinches as if he screamed. </p><p>"Are you sure? You don't have to if you don't want to, really," Jaemin asks, grip on Jisung tightening. </p><p>"Yeah. I think... I think it'd be good." </p><p>Jaemin frowns, but doesn't protest further. "I'll talk to Mr. Kim about it then. It's a three hour ride from train, but I won't be allowed to accompany you in there either." </p><p>"That's... fine. I need to learn to be more independent, right?" </p><p>"...Right." </p><p>Jisung pulls his face away from Jaemin's shirt to stare up at his hyung's conflicted expression. He briefly considers turning back into mouse for a second before realizing he'd probably have to stay as human for the stay at the camp.</p><p>Immediately, a wave of fear, and he feels nauseous. He could probably get away with wearing a mask, probably a cap too. His bangs were long enough to cover his eyes. It won't be too bad, he tries to tell himself, but finds that he can't relax.</p><p>He tugs at Jaemin's hand until the older moves down, lying next to Jisung. It's been a while since Jisung has had to sleep in this form, but Jaemin's arms around him are as comforting as it gets. It doesn't take much to lull him to dreamland; only a hand carding through his hair and the faintest of lullabies. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p><br/>
Renjun and Donghyuck are clearly wary as Jisung reads over the brochure Jaemin brought for him. He's shifted back, once more a little white mouse with shining eyes and large ears. His perch on Renjun's shoulder makes it easier to scan over the words, though the tightness in his chest never leaves. </p><p>"Only two days from now... is that enough time?" Donghyuck asks, looking at him in concern. Out of them all, he was probably the most empathetic towards Jisung's struggles during and after Jaemin's injuries. As a familiar himself, he understands the complexities of the relationships they form with their witches, the unconditional trust that develops into attachment. Being away from them, especially against your will, was torturous yet here Jisung was, trying to do the same again. Granted, he has a choice this time, and he knows he only needs to say the word for Jaemin to burn the paper to the ground.</p><p>But still. Jisung can't continue being a child forever.</p><p>Jisung nods his head slightly, and Donghyuck relents his gaze, reading over the brochure himself. </p><p>"Camp Aletheia!" It reads in obnoxiously bright letters, followed by a brief introduction. A camp for gifted souls, it says. One that would teach them control while providing an understanding environment. A month of fun, it brags. </p><p>In the corner, a picture of a boy. High cheekbones and full lips stretched into a smile, eyes crinkled and hair a gentle lavender. He's holding up a medal, one that says, "Looking forward to seeing you!" </p><p>"I mean... artistic decisions aside, it doesn't seem too bad," Renjun reasons, absentmindedly petting Jisung's head with a finger. </p><p>"Don't worry, Jisung," Donghyuck says, cheerful though a little strained. "We'll probably suffer more anyways. Jaemin's gonna need a new outlet for his affection." </p><p>Renjun snorts. "That'll probably go to Jeno, not us." </p><p>"Ugh, why'd you remind me. Jaemin doesn't deserve that boy, honestly." </p><p>The tension in the air slowly dissipates after that, the two day deadline not so intimidating anymore. Jaemin comes back with a tub of Jisung's favorite ice cream, and they form a cuddle pile around him while watching a random comedy Donghyuck picked out. He's human-Jisung once more, and for once, all the limbs smushed against his feels less invasive and more comforting. His sentimental feelings blind the fear, at least for today. Maybe the camp was already doing him good. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>The day comes sooner than expected, sun bright and high in a cloudless blue sky. The train station is packed, and Jisung tries his best to push the second thoughts down. Jaemin was lenient enough to allow him to stay in his hoodie for the walk there, but as of now, it'll be him and his very human body.</p><p>Renjun and Donghyuck give him their hugs simultaneously. "If anyone's mean to you, call us. We'll run over, beat the shit out of them," Renjun promises.</p><p>Next to them, Jeno snorts. He's not that close to Jisung, not yet, but Jisung does consider him sort of a friend. He's still not on a hug-level though, and he seems to understand this as he only pats Jisung on the back and smiles at him. </p><p>"I'll look after Nana, so don't worry about him," He says, mostly as a joke, but Jisung can't help the relief that floods him at those words. Jaemin would be suffering like him, he knows, but if someone like Jeno would have his back, he'd be fine. </p><p>Jaemin's own hug was tight, a little long, and Jisung almost goes blue in the face. When he pulls apart, Jaemin presses a gentle kiss to his forehead. "Stay safe. I'll miss you so much. I love you," He says, and pushes Jisung towards the opening train. </p><p>Belatedly, when Jisung manages to find a secluded compartment in the fairly empty train, mask covering his face and bangs falling over his eyes, he realizes that he never got the chance to say it back.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>The train comes to a halt in a flowery meadow, sunlight filtering through the windows and Illuminating everything in a hazy golden glow. Flowers everywhere, the buzzing of bees and the whispers of the wind. When Jisung manages to walk out, head down and the very last so as to not bump into anyone, the fresh air hits him and he finds himself inhaling deeply. </p><p>It's not a bad start, Jisung thinks. No one has tried to talk to him yet, and the breeze is relaxing. </p><p>A tall man walks to the front of the crowd the rest of the participants have gathered in. Jisung counts around ten. He looks them over once, and then claps his hand excitedly. "Welcome! I'll be the one leading you all to the campsite! It's not too far from here, and don't look too disappointed! It's all sunshines and rainbows there as well." </p><p>He starts walking, and the rest of them follow, already starting to pair up. Jisung is at the very end of the impromptu line, and he can't help but look around for the purple haired boy he saw in the flyer. Perhaps he wasn't a camper anymore. For some reason, he feels disappointed. </p><p>The man was right, and the journey isn't too long. They step into a clearing, little wooden houses everywhere, graciously spaced. There are a line of instructors waiting for them, and they smile cheerfully when the campers get in their line of sight. </p><p>There is a briefing, a short one. Classes would start in two days, and they would be free to wander about from tomorrow onwards, provided they took a friend with them. As for today, they were meant to settle down in their rooms, the setting sun already giving way to a purple sky. </p><p>They hand out the rooming assignments. Cheers and groans ring about, the campers already so familiar with each other, and Jisung has never felt so lost. He stares at the paper in his hand.</p><p><br/>
<strong>Cabin 649</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>Park Jisung</strong>
</p><p><br/>
He blinks, confused, but is afraid to speak up. When the campers disperse to find their own cabins, he remains rooted to the spot. </p><p>A man approaches him, the same one that led them there. He has brown hair and a nice smile. "Haku, nice to meet you," He says, extending a hand. </p><p>Jisung accepts it, nervous but not wanting to be rude. When their hands touch, the man's eyebrows fly into his hairline. Jisung winces; the anxiety he was experiencing meant his hold on his magic was weaker, and he knew the man — Haku — was feeling the effects. </p><p>"We've been informed of your predicament, and we thought you'd be uncomfortable sharing a room. Your cabin is smaller than the others, but you can have it all to yourself," Haku explains, smiling. Unlike Jaemin's smiles though, this one just puts him on edge. </p><p>He appreciates the concern though. He didn't come here to make friends, just to learn more control and soothe Jaemin's nerves about his lack of social life. Jaemin wouldn't have to know he didn't talk to anyone. </p><p>"Thank you," He says, voice small, and Haku grins. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>His exhaustion wins over his anxiety and he manages to fall asleep quite early. The cabin is small, that was true, but the bed was comfortable and the covers thick. Morning comes too quickly, and a rapid fire succession of knocks at the door wake him up.</p><p>He's managed to sit up when the door swings open, Haku walking in with a smile. It grows wider, unsettlingly so when his eyes land on Jisung and it's with no little bit of horror that he realizes that his mask is off. </p><p>Jisung doesn't know how to turn away without it coming off as rude, but the way the man's eyes linger on him makes every instinct in his body scream. He can feel his magic unwinding, knows Haku can feel it too from the way his eyes widen and he quickly steps back. </p><p>"Breakfast is in ten minutes. Get ready, this will be your last free day for a while," Haku says quickly, before exiting. </p><p>Jisung finds himself missing his friends dearly in that moment. There's no one for him to hide behind anymore. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p><br/>
Breakfast is warm, served on a large table where all the campers sit. Jisung still doesn't recognize them, finds that he doesn't care. He's still on edge from that morning, and finds it hard not to fidget in his seat as hot platings of fresh pancakes are placed in front of him. </p><p>They all get one call a day, apparently. Jisung is trying to figure out what to say to Jaemin. Should he mention Haku? </p><p>No no. Jaemin would freak, would probably come into the camp himself to drag Jisung away. Jisung doesn't want to worry him further, wants his witch to go through the month as stress free as possible. </p><p>He eats his serving quickly, excuses himself just as fast. They have to wash their own plates, but just as Jisung dips his into the water, it shatters.</p><p>He can't hold back the yelp as a shard digs into his palm, blood already pooling out the cut. Worried campers and instructors start getting up, but it's Haku who reaches him first and takes Jisung's hand in his own. </p><p>Jisung wants to scream, the unwelcomed touch sending his magic into overdrive, and he has to grit his teeth to prevent it from leaking out. Breathe in, he tells himself, but it's all useless the moment Haku starts tugging him away. </p><p>Nothing filters in except the pounding of his own heart. His footsteps feel weak, like the hand on his are the only thing keeping him upright. They must not walk far, but for Jisung, it's an eternity. </p><p>A nurse's office. Jisung is intimately familiar with those, used to accompanying Jaemin to the one back in campus. It doesn't do much to calm him down however, and he's too panicked to notice that Haku has left. </p><p>In his place, a woman. Cropped orange hair, a small face and a comforting smile. Jisung finds himself relaxing involuntarily, seeing that the immediate danger was gone. The pain in his hand is only a dull throb. </p><p>The woman introduces herself as Lia, and her hands are warm and soft as they hover over the cut. Jisung watches as it starts to stitch itself together, small and neat though not as precise as Jaemin's spells were. However, just as he's about to pull his hand away, it's held in place and Lia begins to roll up his sleeve. </p><p>"E- Excuse me?" He stutters, trying to jerk back. </p><p>Lia clicks her tongue, eyeing the skin. A rash is present, red and irritated and Jisung wonders how he hadn't noticed it. Lia keeps rolling up the sleeve and the rash never goes away, all the way up to his shoulders which are tense as Jisung tries his best not to freak. </p><p>His magic demands to be let out, his erratic heartbeat spiralling everything out of control, yet he still tries. He knows he's not fully successful, because Lia's hands are trembling, but he knows he can't do any better. </p><p>"Do you have allergies?" Lia asks, hands ghosting over the rash and smiling sympathetically when Jisung flinches. </p><p>"No," Jisung replies, wishing desperately that he could jerk his arm away from this woman. </p><p>"This looks really bad, Jisung," She says. Then, "take off your clothes."</p><p>Jisung really does fly back at that, nursing his arm to his chest, eyes wide. "Excuse me?" He cries out, manners forgotten as the request — no, order — settles in his mind. </p><p>"You heard me. We can't treat that without seeing the full damage. Can't even find a cause. So, clothes off."</p><p>Suddenly her voice, so warm before, was cold and commanding. It sets alight an instinct in him deep forgotten, one that overrides fear with a compulsion to obey. No one has used that tone with him in so long, yet his response never got a chance to change. </p><p>He does take off his clothes, feeling so horribly exposed that he wants to cry. He sees the way Lia's eyes wander, sees the resemblance to his old owner in the action and his magic absolutely screams. </p><p>But he doesn't let it out. The last time he did, his old owner...</p><p>"It seems better there," Lia whispers, pressing a hand onto Jisung's chest. Her demeanour cracks when she feels the trill of his heartbeat, the way his body feels so cold despite the surrounding warmth. A smile overtakes her face, eyes glazed over. </p><p>"You're such a pretty thing, Jisung," She tells him. "No wonder you hide yourself all the time. You'd be perfect."</p><p>And that's the last straw. Jisung lets go on all the ropes he's coiled around his magic, lets go of any limitations and boundaries. He waits, for the telltale explosion and yet... </p><p>And yet, nothing happens. </p><p>Lia's smile grows wider. </p><p>Jisung blacks out. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>When he comes to, it's nothing like the slow, comfortable pace back at home. Here, fear alights his body even before he could open his eyes, and he tries to jerk up except he can't. </p><p>He's trapped, a magical bind wrapped around him. The kind that burns you the more you struggle, and Jisung is naked and he can already feel the sting ready to set alight his nerves. </p><p>Going from hiding his face to being forced to expose his entire body is too much. He feels the sobs build up in his throat, and a pathetic whimper bursts out.</p><p>Pain. </p><p>Jisung blinks back stars, his head pounding as his vision blacks out momentarily. Slapped. He was slapped. </p><p>In front of him, Lia. Nothing like the nurse he met before, a lot like the owners who used to play with him before. The same look of disgust in their eyes, yet their expressions would be of awe. Their hands never stopped wandering. It gets them off, people like her. The fact that someone as powerful as Jisung could be at their mercy. </p><p>"Don't you dare cry," She hisses, then jerks a phone towards him. "Your hyung has been calling," She spits as if it personally offends her. </p><p>"I... what?" </p><p>"You didn't tell us, no one told us you were bonded to a witch. But it's too late now, so you'd better talk. Even a hint of something wrong, and we'll leave you dangling from the ceiling, understood?"</p><p>Jisung nods, terrified and meek. The phone is on speaker, the rings impossibly loud in his head. Then, Jaemin picks up.</p><p>"Hello?" Jaemin says, and the voice is so familiar, so relieving that it's an actual effort to not cry. It's only been a day, yet the hole Jaemin left has already grown big enough to swallow him whole. </p><p>"Hyung..." He whispers out. </p><p>A delighted noise. "Jisung! Oh, my sweet baby. How are you settling in? Is everything alright?" </p><p>"It's... It's great, really. Everything's really new but I'm getting used to it. I'm, uh, I'm having fun. Don't worry," He says, voice slicked in faux cheer, lies dripping from every word. He wants to cry. </p><p>"Oh that's great, Sungie! Have fun, okay? I love you."</p><p>"I—"</p><p>And the call cuts off. The second time he didn't say it back. </p><p>What if it was the last? The question makes him feel cold, almost paralyzed, but he has no time to dwell on it. Not when he's being dragged up harshly, the binds falling away. </p><p>The stone walls and darkness of the room he was in was replaced, by flashing lights and white walls. In the center of the cameras, a boy, alabaster skin and full lips. High cheekbones and a wide smile, eyed crinkled and purple hair falling over his face. </p><p>Jisung felt so humiliated, staying like this next to the almost ethereal boy. His body covered in scratches, nothing to cover himself with. His magic unresponsive, no matter how hard he tries.</p><p>"Alright, that's enough for today," A gruff voice calls out. The crew lingering about gets up, and walks towards the exit. They eye Jisung like predators, unsubtle in their glances and making him utterly terrified. </p><p>But he's left alone, save for Lia and the boy. Lia glances over at the boy, looks at him sharply. "Introduce him to the basics. You both will be roommates from now on."</p><p>And then she leaves. </p><p>And the boy's face cracks. </p><p>"You... oh my god," He whispers in horror, looking at Jisung with wide, expressing eyes. Nothing like the lifeless doll he was moments ago. </p><p>He spends no time shrugging off the oversized coat on him, handing it to Jisung, but all Jisung can focus on are how thin the boy's wrists are. How his veins lay visible through near transparent skin, the terrible implications and the unwanted memories the sight brings. </p><p>With trembling hands, he manages to slip on the coat. The warmth it brings reminds him of being nestled in Jaemin's clothes, and that's all it takes for him to break. </p><p>The boy crushes him in a hug, and as much as Jisung hates physical contact, he can't help but lean into it. Sobs break out of his chest, and the boy tries his best to calm Jisung down. </p><p>"I'm so sorry," Jisung says, voice cracking. </p><p>The boy shakes his head vigorously. "No, no. Don't ever be sorry." </p><p>"What's your name?" Jisung asks, face buried in the boy's shoulder. </p><p>"Chenle. I... I was a camper like you. Last year," The boy, Chenle, tells him, voice wavering. </p><p>"I'm Jisung," Jisung manages to croak out. </p><p>There's no more conversation. Just two boys — prisoners, really — trying to find comfort in one another. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Chenle leads him to a room. Nothing like the bare four walls Jisung was kept within, but instead fully furnished. A small bed, a closet, a wooden desk. The walls were white, the tiles grey and the floor bare. It looks lifeless, no hint of a personality found anywhere. </p><p>Chenle sits him down on the bed, hands him worn out clothes that hang a little loose on him. There are holes, and the fabric is thin, but it's better than nothing. </p><p>"I'm sorry they don't fit. They used to belong to the previous... um, prisoner, I guess," Chenle says, settling down next to Jisung and crossing his legs. </p><p>"What... happened to him?" Jisung manages to ask after a few tense seconds. He fiddles with a loose thread, remembering the times when Jaemin would mend his old clothes with ease. Everything reminds him of his hyungs. It hurts. </p><p>"He got drained. That's the fate that lies for all of us," Chenle explains, but it doesn't clear much. </p><p>A small sigh, and Chenle leans against the wall, facing him. His smile is strained and in this lighting, Jisung sees the way the almost unreal appearance of the boy fades into something more human, yet no less concerning. He was pale, too pale, and his eyes were tired. His bones jut out and his hands tremble whenever he moves. </p><p>With slow words, Chenle explains. Explains that the camp is a front, one that lures in groups of children with unusual magic stores and selects one of them to use as a battery. The remaining campers have a jolly good month, but the selected one would be hidden away forever. </p><p>The photoshoots, a mask. Their faces printed on magazines and brochures, an advertising ploy. </p><p>And as for being a battery, Chenle explains that the magic within them would be used to power a machine they constructed an eternity ago. One that transformed stones to gold, akin to the near lost art of alchemy, but one flaw remained and that was the sheer amount of magic required to pull off such a task. It's what they use the prisoners for, and while they're left to rot, the higher-ups enjoy their newfound riches and live in lavish masions, breathing in luxury. </p><p>Chenle hesitates from there, but Jisung wants to know everything, so he continues. </p><p>"They... usually replace the Battery once the previous one drains completely and dies," He says. </p><p>Jisung feels his heart drop at the words. If he was here, then Chenle... </p><p>"I'm not dying," Chenle says, sharp. "But... my magic, it's based entirely of illusions. That's how they use me, to trick the cameras into thinking I'm a flawless being when I'm really not. They think that's all I use it for but..." </p><p>A deep breath. </p><p>"Jisung, soon they'll start feeding you the most delicious of food, start dressing you in the softest of clothes. Don't fall for it, it's a trick to convince you to stay, to be obedient. And when they finally have you in their grasps, they'll stop. Throw you in a room like a puppet, drag you out when needed and use you as they please," Chenle tells him, voice desperate.</p><p>"But you...?" </p><p>"They think I've fallen for it, but I haven't. It's my magic that convinces them, but in the process, I'm draining much more quickly. They've noticed too, which is why they brought you in. I'm... I'm so sorry Jisung," Chenle whispers, averting his eyes. </p><p>"You told me to not ever be sorry," Jisung says in a soft voice, looking at Chenle even if Chenle wouldn't look at him. "Please, follow your own advice."</p><p>Chenle sniffles. </p><p>"And um... the camp lasts for a month. They made me call my Hyung today, but once the month is over and I don't go home, he'll notice. And maybe..."</p><p>Chenle freezes at that. "You... you have a witch?" He asks, eyes wide. </p><p>"Yes? D- don't you?" </p><p>"No, no. None of the chosen ones do. That's how they've been getting away with it for so long, they prey on the loneliest, the ones who won't ever be missed," Chenle explains, confused. </p><p>Jisung remembers Lia's words. You didn't tell us you were bonded, she had spat out. </p><p>It clicks. </p><p>"Jaemin hyung isn't my witch, at least not legally. If they went through my official records, they wouldn't find a hint of him there. My old ones, they died," Jisung explains, trying to be as vague as possible, but Chenle seems to catch onto the gaps anyways. He doesn't question it, but he seems even more worried. </p><p>"What's wrong?" Jisung asks. </p><p>Chenle laughs, broken. "Jisung, you do realize, if they're aware you have a bonded witch, they'll probably just get rid of them right?" His words are harsh, the truth stinging like acid but Jisung can't even be mad because Chenle was right. </p><p>If this was going on for years, a group of teenage witches wouldn't be the ones to end it. If they thought Jaemin would be an obstacle then they would...</p><p>No, Jisung does not want to think about it. Instead, he shuffles to the edge of the bed, curls against the walls. </p><p>"Jisung... I'm sorry."</p><p>"Don't be."</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Chenle's explanation would have never prepared him the sheer amount of pain the process caused. No hint of sunlight, no way for them to tell the time, and Jisung felt half delirious when they barged in to grab him and strap him onto a hospital bed. A needle inserted, into his arms. </p><p>He snaps awake the moment the switch is turned on, his magic leaking through, compressed into a bright blue liquid. It's as if someone is tearing his skin away from him, the pain so intense that he has no control over the scream he lets loose. Tears fall freely, and the process which lasted only a minute felt like an eternity. </p><p>At the end of it, he's left with a hammering heart and a stinging abdomen, a strange emptiness where his magic used to fill. The figures of watching over him leer at him, and Jisung feels so small, so humiliated yet he only cries harder.</p><p>They aren't gentle with him when they bring him back. Something tells Jisung the knowledge of him having a bonded witch made them forgo whatever mercy they would've had. Skip right through the fancy clothes and food directly into being treated as an object. </p><p>He's shoved into his and Chenle's room, and the door slams shut. </p><p>He cries and cries, and Chenle holds him through it all. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>They make him call Jaemin again. It hurts, hearing his Hyung's elated voice when Jisung tells him about the friends he's made. It hurts, when Jaemin tells him how much he misses him. How much he loves him. </p><p>"I love you too," Jisung breathes out, emotions overwhelming him, like a hand curling around his throat. </p><p>And the call is over, the guards gone. </p><p>Jisung collapses onto the floor, breathing heavily. On the bed, Chenle eyes him, suspicious. </p><p>"You're awfully obedient to their requests," He observes. </p><p>Jisung pauses at that, tries to laugh it off, but it doesn't work.</p><p>"Everyone, when they come here, puts up a fight. Except you, Jisung," Chenle says, voice bodering on accusing. What's he accusing him for? Jisung doesn't want to know, only wants Chenle to stop being so suspicious of him. </p><p>"... my old owners weren't nice to me," Jisung says finally, when Chenle's stare burns enough for him to crack. </p><p>"Multiple ones?" </p><p>"My magic was too much for one to handle." </p><p>"And your current one?" Chenle prods further, eyes narrowing. </p><p>"He's great. He's wonderful. He's the ones that saved me from them, he—"</p><p>"Also killed them," Chenle finishes for him, not so much a question, more of a statement. </p><p>Jisung flinches. "Yeah... yeah." </p><p>Chenle sighs, the tension in him bleeding out. "I shouldn't have pried," He says, after a moment. </p><p>"It's okay," Jisung says, even though it's really not. His old owners aren't people he thinks about anymore, not after Jaemin had found him curled up in their basement, severely malnourished and crying nonstop. Jisung remembers just how freeing it was when he was carried away in gentle arms, dismembered bodies of his owners lying behind them, forgotten. Remembers vowing to never tie himself to a witch again, only for Jaemin to worm his way through Jisung's walls. Remembers seeing Jaemin cry when his magic backfires on him, remembers the need he felt inside him to help. </p><p>Jaemin left the gang he was a part of, left behind his bloody past and dirty knuckles. Jisung in tow, they entered the academy and got accepted based off skill alone. Jaemin stopped using his magic for destruction, started using it to heal, Jisung behind him at all times, ready to assist. </p><p>He misses him. Misses Renjun and Donghyuck, and even Jeno. </p><p>Crying himself to sleep has become a norm, but it hurts more than usual today. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p><br/>
Everything becomes a routine for a while. Get woken up, dragged to the machine, dragged back and into Chenle's waiting arms. Jaemin's calls hurt as much as they heal, and there comes a point where everything just becomes too much. </p><p>Before, when things got overwhelming, he would just shift into his mouse form, nuzzle against one of his friends for comfort. But here, his magic feels so weak, he can barely stay awake, let alone shift into his second form. </p><p>The guards walk in to take Jisung once more, but grab Chenle instead. Jisung watches in confusion as they walk out, waits through his anxiety for hours, and receives an almost unconscious Chenle in his arms later on. The phone call is postponed, and when the guards leave, Chenle smiles at him. </p><p>"Used my magic... made them think I was you," He explains slowly, before closing his eyes. </p><p>It takes him a long time to wake up. Jisung stays curled by his side the whole day.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p><br/>
There was an almost mechanical headspace he used to slip into back with his old owners, and what's happening to him now is eerily similar. Almost like he's catatonic, only following orders and curling up with Chenle during his free time. He misses Jaemin so dearly it physically hurts, so he tries his best to just... not feel anything. </p><p>Chenle is pensive these days too, and the reason for this behavior is revealed when they're both lying down, facing each other, hands intertwined. </p><p>"Your magic... what's it's speciality?" Chenle asks. </p><p>Jisung blinks. A familiar's magic takes after their witch's, and Jaemin's magic was... unique to say the least. Nothing close to the healer he's been posing as all these years.</p><p>Cursed magic, Jaemin's family had called it, before casting him out to the streets. The ability to control human bodies as he pleased, physically or mentally. Destructive in it's nature, but Jaemin shed blood sweat and tears trying to use it's powers for good. Instead of telling the heart to stop beating, pain receptors to set alight without a stimulus or for bones to crack with only the snap of a finger, he perfected the art of doing the opposite. Helping the body to heal itself.</p><p>No one except Jisung knows the true nature of his magic. The two of them combined, a dangerous speciality coupled with a near infinite source of magic would've been considered too risky to be taught. Potentially, they would've been killed.</p><p>Chenle is staring at him, waiting for answer. Jisung hesitates, knowing it's not his secret to tell. One he thought he'd take to the grave, but as things are now, is that really so far away? </p><p>So he tells Chenle, watches the widening of his eyes with apprehension. </p><p>Chenle doesn't say anything for a moment. Then, he says, "I lied too." </p><p>Jisung blanches. Confused, he stares at Chenle's guilty expression. </p><p>"It's not illusion magic, not really. It can be, it's what I've been using it as, but in truth I can bend reality if I want. And not just your perception of it." </p><p>Oh. No wonder Chenle was chosen. </p><p>Jisung laughs. "Guess we're both a little too dangerous to be let out, huh?" He says, a little bitter.</p><p>But Chenle only smiles, a little too wide. "You're right. And imagine what we can do, if we work together." </p><p> </p><p> </p><p><br/>
Chenle teaches Jisung how to use his magic during the free time that they get. It's not easy, not when they're both always so tired, only fed enough to keep them alive. </p><p>(Jisung misses Jaemin's home-cooked meals so much it's not even funny. He tells Chenle about them one day, and Chenle only stares at him with pity).</p><p>Chenle explains that his own powers, limitless it seems, isn't easy to use. Not at all. He tells Jisung that manifesting it as illusions is the only way his body doesn't collapse from the strain. Which leaves Jisung to carry out of most of their plan.</p><p>He has an odd look in his eye as he watches Jisung try to heal a small cut on his leg. Gaze wandering over Jisung's frame, at the frail limbs and tired posture. If Jisung couldn't get his magic to work, there was no way they could escape from here. He needs food.</p><p>So, Chenle tells Jisung that he wants to wear a specific blue sweater and makes him wander into the closet to find it. Said blue sweater had been thrown out months ago, but Jisung didn't need to know that.</p><p>Chenle eyes his thighs. Bites his lip in consideration. Could his magic fool even himself? </p><p>The answer is no, and the pain is gruelling as he cuts off a chunk, skin tearing and blood seeping out in waves. It's pain, horrible and excrutiating, yet he continues anyways. Uses whatever little store of magic he has in him to conjure a fire, cooking it through.</p><p>When Jisung comes back, the floor is clean and Chenle is spotless. All a clever illusion. </p><p> Chenle directs him to the plate, tells him that the guards were feeling generous. Jisung chews on it, innocent and happy. Offers Chenle a bite, but he lies through gritted teeth that he already ate. </p><p>When Jisung is done, Chenle asks him to try heal the cut on his leg once more. Jisung succeeds, not in the way he believes, but Chenle sees what's really happening. Watches as the muscle knits itself together again, spotless skin covering all the bloody layers, the pain so dulled it's basically non existent. </p><p>Jisung cheers, and Chenle cheers even louder. </p><p>And after the boy falls asleep, and Chenle is mopping up the floor with the damp scraps of a once used t-shirt, he decides that Jisung doesn't have to know the whole truth. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p><br/>
Chenle wonders how long they've been stuck here. It feels like more than a month, but he doesn't tell Jisung this. He doesn't want Jisung to face the reality that Jaemin might be dead. As selfish as it seems, Chenle just wants to see Jisung happy, even though he knows he really isn't. Jisung was quiet most of the time, eyes unseeing and movements almost robotic. It's only when they lie down together that he really opens up.</p><p>Chenle takes most of Jisung's "shifts". It's second nature to him, warping reality enough that all the guards sees him as Jisung. The dull pain in his thighs have also become constant background music, the way Jisung's cheeks fill out and the confidence he exudes when he gets a spell right making it all worth it.</p><p>Jisung himself improves in leaps and bounds. Chenle wonders if he realizes the consequences of what he's about to do, the way the weight of his actions would pierce him in the future. </p><p>"I've always wanted to do it, Chenle," Jisung whispers to him one night, huddled under the covers. "Jaemin hyung just beat me to it." </p><p>Perhaps it's concerning, how detached Jisung could be sometimes. Apathy seems to be his default, unless he's talking to Chenle. But in their small underground room, no company but themselves and constant torture awaiting their bodies, it's a coping mechanism. </p><p>Chenle wishes for a day he could see Jisung smile without a care. The younger boy is so beautiful, but he never voices this out because of just how uncomfortable Jisung gets. Chenle remembers Jisung telling him how he always hid his face, remembers feeling a wave of anger at the monsters who made him behave that way. </p><p>Chenle just wants Jisung to be safe. If tearing himself away from the world was the way Jisung held onto his sanity, Chenle would accept it. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>The day when Chenle struggles to even wake up, they both draw the line; Jisung refuses to let Chenle drain himself further and Chenle refuses to let Jisung go alone.</p><p>When the two guards walk in, measely quantity of food in their hands, it only takes a nonchalant tip of the head. The bodies collapse, blood pooling beneath them, and Jisung eyes it almost hungrily. </p><p>Chenle believes in doing whatever you can to protect your own life, however immoral could be, but he grabs Jisung's arm and marches them out the room before he did something unnecessary. Later, Chenle knows Jisung would be hit with a suffocating wave of guilt. Knows the shy, sensitive boy who had first walked in was still there, buried beneath layers and layers of protective armor. </p><p>It's a cakewalk from there onwards. Jisung's magic, relatively unused as Chenle took all the hits for him, was bursting at the seams, demanding to be let out. Jisung complies to it's requests without question, barely spares a glance at the trembling bodies he's leaving behind. Bloody and battered, yet unable to scream. Jisung disliked noise, after all. </p><p>And then there are two left. A petite woman, and a tall man.</p><p>"Lia," Jisung greets. "Haku."</p><p>Their eyes widen, the fear in them so evident that Chenle almost feels bad. Almost. But when their bodies crumple to the ground, like puppets whose strings were cut, he only feels a sick sort of pleasure. </p><p>And with that, they're free. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>The meadow is empty, the campers long gone. Jisung collapses onto the ground, a broken sob tearing it's way through his throat. </p><p>"Jaemin hyung... Jaemin hyung!" He cries out, wildly looking around for a figure absent. Chenle pats his back soothingly, looks through the flowers and grass until his eyes catch onto something. </p><p>A cellphone. </p><p>Wordlessly, he moves to pick it up, hands it over to Jisung's curled up frame. </p><p>"Call him," Chenle tells him quietly. The whispers of the winds are silent, and the chitters of the bugs are absent. The once beautiful meadow was desolate now, the eerie atmosphere overtaking it's glamour.</p><p>Jisung does, with trembling fingers and tears streaming down his face. His clothes are drenched with blood, and yet his face is so distraught that Chenle's heart tightens painfully for his sake anyways. He looks like a child. A lonely, lost child. </p><p>A few rings, and then someone picks up.</p><p>Jisung breaks down at that moment, crying so hard he can barely get any words out. Only unintelligble words break through, and Chenle quickly grabs the phone from him. </p><p>"If this is a joke—"</p><p>"I've got Jisung here," Chenle interrupts. The line goes silent. </p><p>"Where are you?" A raspy voice asks, sharp. </p><p>"I don't know. The camp is long over, so all the protective spells will be worn off. Use a scribing spell, find us."</p><p>The line disconnects. All that is left is for them to wait. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p><br/>
(They never talk about what happened, but Jisung knows Jaemin knows. Jisung also knows that the guards had tried to kill Jaemin, but ultimately, no one could really be a match to Jaemin's unwavering control over his magic. It would be ten times easier for Jaemin to get rid of someone than it would ever be for Jisung. </p><p>Jisung sees his hyung's concerned glances, hears his worried tones. Jaemin's hands on him are firm when he guides Jisung through a spell, and his lips on Jisung's temple are gentle when Jisung wakes up screaming. He's so patient, during the days Jisung refuses to let him go, during the days he starts to cry if Chenle is away or if Renjun and Donghyuck are late. </p><p>Jisung doesn't know who he is sometimes, sees bloodied bodies staring at him through the mirror. One day he asks Jaemin, how he had dealt with the guilt that came with everything.</p><p>Jaemin never answers). </p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>thank you for making it this far! Please leave kudos and comments if you can! I'd appreciate it SO much.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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